--September 9th, 1969; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
First years. Droves of them. Not one of them knowing what they were getting into. I didn't much care for them myself, but then again, I could say that about pretty much anyone. I was a third year, by the by—thirteen or so, and damn proud of it.
Ignoring the stares and whispers that I had become accustomed to, I held my head up and strolled (all right, limped really—I've got a bum left leg, a birth defect of some sort, I suppose) over to the Gryffindor table and took my seat just as the Sorting Ceremony began.
As the hat gave its usual little speech and Dumbledore started down the list of names, I zoned out a little as chatter resumed in the hall among shouts of "Gryffindor!" and "Hufflepuff!" and "Ravenclaw!" and even a few "Slytherin!"s. It was rather boring really after the first two times.
"Aurora Draconis Kapranos!" As Professor Dumbledore called out the name, the Hall grew strangely quiet, and even the teachers ceased murmuring amongst themselves. Looking up, I saw a tall, willowy wisp of a girl stride purposefully across the room, her long dark hair shielding the translucent skin of her face from view.
Sitting on the stool, she gazed out at the crowd with icy pale blue eyes that sparkled with an uncanny intelligence. When they placed the hat on her head, it was silent for almost three full minutes before calling out, "Slytherin!"
At this, the girl looked momentarily startled, but then quickly recovered and took her place at the table, her mask-like expression daring anyone to question her right to be there.
"Hey Weasley!" leaning across an aisle, I poked Arthur Weasley, a Hufflepuff who had worked with me in Herbology the previous year, in the shoulder.
Turning around in his seat, he looked at me over his glasses, "What is it Moody?"
"That girl," I tossed my head toward the Slytherin table, "Who is she that's got everyone so ruffled?"
Running a hand through his trademark red hair, he stared at me, "You mean you don't know?" When I nodded, he sighed, "She's the sole scion of the Kapranos family—the second-oldest pureblood house in England next to the Blacks and the most ruthless next to none; which makes her very bad news."
I raised an eyebrow, "How do you figure?"
Jumping into the conversation, Arthur's girlfriend, Molly added, "Rumor has it that she had a twin brother, but she strangled him in the womb and that's why her mother died in childbirth and her father hates her."
Arthur snorted, "Yeah, yeah, but how can you believe any of that? They also say that she's a werewolf and that she knows more curses that Professor Willows, but you don't believe that do you?" He turned back to me, "Why do you ask?"
I shrugged, "Oh, just curious." Truth was, I was intrigued by this strange new first year, because in so many ways, she was like myself.
